“By your side then,” Miranda corrected. “Holding you up.”
“You’re already doing that.” Summer’s voice was thick and she cleared her throat. “I’ve got to go.”
“Wait! I’ll stop by the bar.”
“No, don’t. Today’s delivery day and it’s going to be tough. I’ll call you later.”
She hung up before Miranda had a chance to respond—let alone argue—and Miranda admitted, as hard as it was, she had to give her friend space and privacy.
So, what the hell she was going to do for the rest of the day—let alone the rest of her life?
Disgusted with herself, Miranda cranked the engine and snatched up the Coke. She tapped the top with her index finger, then popped the top. The hiss of carbonated gas escaping and the puff of cool against her fingers was as familiar as summertime in the south. She brought the drink to her lips and took a long swallow, the addictively sweet taste filling her mouth.
Over the years, how many commercials had played on that sensory familiarity—the snap and hiss, the cold, sweet taste filling the mouth and the bubbly sensation as the beverage slid down the throat?
Over the years …
How many years?
Fourteen.
“You can trust me, Randi. I promise you that.”
Miranda stared at the bright red can, the memory from earlier again unfurling her head.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
That night in June
2002
Ms. Roxy, with the teased hair and kind eyes, handed her a Coke. The can was cold and wet, and although chilled to the bone, Randi clutched it with both hands.
“Don’t you worry, sugar, the chief will be here any moment.”
In the last twenty minutes, Ms. Roxy had said the same thing three times. But in a way, Miranda was glad he was taking so long. She was scared of what he would say, scared he would call her a liar and throw her in jail.
And Ms. Roxy was being real sweet to her. Staying right by her side except when she had to answer the phone or help one of the deputies, and then she would pat Randi’s hand and promise she’d “be right back.”
Randi marveled at her kindness and wondered if being nice was part of her job. She’d never met anybody this nice before, that was for sure.
Chief Cadwell finally arrived. Randi knew who he was—his face had been plastered all over Harmony during the recent election. At the time she’d thought he was kind of handsome for an old guy—especially compared to her daddy—but now, not so much. He was red in the face and rumpled looking, with bags under his eyes and deep groves around his mouth.
“Give me two minutes, Roxy,” he said, not looking at Randi. “Then bring Miss Rader in.”
He stepped into his office, closing the door behind him. Roxy glanced at Randi and winked. “Let’s give him five instead.”
Exactly five minutes later, the woman escorted her in. Chief Cadwell looked at her then, leveling her with his serious gaze. “Hello, Randi,” he said. “Have a seat.”
She nodded, a lump in her throat. When she was seated, he looked back at Roxy. “Roxy, could you bring me a cup of coffee? I’m beat. And grab a blanket from the first-aid closet. Randi here doesn’t need to be shivering like that.”
“You got it, Chief,” she said, sending him an approving nod. “Be right back.”
When the door clicked shut behind her, he turned his attention back to Randi. “That was quite a story you told to Roxy.”
Randi swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
“Abduction and rape. That’s serious, serious business. You understand that, don’t you?” She nodded and he went on. “And you still stand by it?”
She tightened her fingers on the can of soda. “Yes, sir.”
“All right then, I need you to tell me the story. Starting at the beginning.”
She hesitated, wondering how to weave the story so he would believe her but she wouldn’t get anyone else in trouble.
As if he read her mind, he leaned slightly forward. “Be smart, Randi. You’re in big trouble. Tell me everything and tell me the truth, the entire truth. Holding back to protect someone else will only make your situation worse. And frankly, I don’t see anyone rushing in to try to save your butt.”
And no one would, she thought. She was alone.
But not as alone as the other girl.
“You can trust me, Randi,” he said quietly. “I promise you that.”
She could, she thought, relief bringing tears to her eyes. They welled and spilled over just as Ms. Roxy reentered the room.
“Your coffee, Chief,” she said, setting a cup emblazoned with BEST DAD AWARD on the desk in front of him. “And a blanket for you.” She opened it and laid it gently over Randi’s shoulders, then gave them a reassuring squeeze. “Anything else, boss?”
He said there wasn’t and she left the room, leaving the door open a crack.
“You can trust me,” he said again. “C’mon, Randi, tell me what happened tonight.”
So she did, the story pouring out of her—all of it, every detail. She began with her brothers sending Billy Boman to pick her up, about the beers, the kissing, and his kicking her out of the truck when she wouldn’t go all the way with him.
“He had a bag of pot in the console and I took it.”
He made a note. “So, you’re saying the weed was his?”
There would be hell to pay with her brothers, but she didn’t see either of them hurrying down here to help her. She nodded. “Yes, sir. He made me really mad, so I took it.”
“Did the two of you smoke weed together?”
“No.” When the chief looked doubtful, she vehemently shook her head. “We drank his Dixies, that’s all.”
“What then?”
“I started to walk.”
“No cell phone?”
This time it was she who looked disbelieving. “Not until I can pay for one.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“A guy pulled up—”
“Did you know him?”
“Nope, never even saw him before.”
“What kind of car?”
She thought a moment. “Nice. Expensive looking. Black … maybe a BMW?”
“Maybe?”
“It was dark, and I was so glad he came along.… But it had a tan leather interior. I remember thinking how pretty it was.”
Cadwell noted that, then returned his gaze to hers. “What did he look like?”
“He was good looking … but I didn’t, you know, want to stare or anything.”
“You were playing it cool?”
“Yeah. Oh, and he was wearing a ball cap.”
“Anything on it?”
She shifted nervously, thinking of the other girl and aware of more time passing. “Maybe we should just go out there now? It’s been so long … I promised—”
“We do this first, Randi. Keep on task and we’ll be out of here in no time. Anything on the ball cap?”
“University of Alabama. I noticed it ’cause my brothers hate ’Bama so much.”
“Anything else you recall about his face?”
Randi looked down at her hands, feeling stupid. “Like I said, it was dark and I was drunk and pissed off.”
“And playing it cool?” She nodded. “So, he offered you a ride?”
“Yeah.”
“And you took it?” Reprisal in his tone. An almost paternal disappointment.